This Kiss
by piratewench78
Summary: What happens after that kiss. You know the one. AU


_I don't want another heartbreak  
I don't need another turn to cry, no  
I don't want to learn the hard way  
Baby, hello, oh, no, goodbye_

It wasn't until she was in her room that Rayna could finally think coherently about what had just happened. Deacon had kissed her and she'd kissed him back. She felt like she couldn't just let it go at that and yet she wasn't sure what to do about it either.

She put down her purse and knew this had all started that night at the Bluebird, when they'd gotten too close to the truth of who they were. It had shattered that carefully constructed boundary between them and it seemed like everything had gone to hell after that.

She had certainly pushed him this time though. She had to wonder what her intentions really were when she kept asking him why he was on the tour. Why he'd joined Juliette's band. _Was it not enough that I knew deep down inside, that he'd done it for me? That he couldn't stay away from me?_ After he'd joined Juliette's band, she'd been determined to reengage the boundaries and she'd gone overboard, pushing him away in a way that had felt harsh.

She kept telling herself she was trying to make a point, the same point she'd been trying to make since the Bluebird. She'd had that mix of relief, happiness, and sadness, when he'd told her he was thinking about joining the Revel Kings. Happiness for him that he would be doing something important for him and stretching himself career-wise. Relief that he was moving on and out of her circle, making it easier for her to maintain her boundaries. But also sadness at the realization that who they'd been – together – for so long was about to be over.

But, as too often happened, he had imploded. He'd walked away from the Revel Kings, he'd threatened to pull up stakes and leave Nashville. Some things never changed, it seemed. His way of dealing with adversity and disappointment was to walk away. And then he'd shown up on Juliette's plane and she'd had to know why. She had pushed until he finally gave her an answer, although it had not been the one she'd expected.

 _So what_ _was_ _I expecting?_ If she was honest, the kiss had felt good. As many times as she'd dreamed about it, over the years, actually feeling his mouth on hers, tangling her tongue with his, feeling the heat of his body against hers, had been so much better. It had felt comfortable. Right. _Unbelievably hot._ And, truthfully, after that argument on the phone with Teddy, she'd felt a little defiant.

Teddy was wrong, she'd told herself. Of course Teddy had his own deceptions, as she'd learned, and it had rocked her to her core to learn the extent of that. Tipped her world on its axis. He wasn't the man she thought she knew, the man she'd married, the man she'd raised their daughters with. _That_ had certainly played into it.

But Deacon was like playing with fire, no matter why. And they'd come too close. She unwrapped her scarf and dropped it and her jacket on the couch next to her purse. _Can I put that genie back in the bottle? Can I get back that control?_ Over the years, she'd become adept at the performance smile, being able to expertly compartmentalize her feelings and urges and yearnings. That night on the Bluebird stage and just now in the elevator threatened to undo everything she had so carefully built. If it came tumbling down, the fallout could be destructive. _Would_ be destructive. And she couldn't risk that.

She tried to sit, but couldn't. She got up and paced, trying to calm herself, trying to decide what to do. _Do I ignore what just happened? Do I confront him? I mean, I'm married, after all, even if we are on shaky ground. Do I ask him why he would do that?_ There didn't seem to be any clear cut answer, no compelling reason to address it but it was too provocative not to. This was Deacon, after all, the one person who'd been there with her from the beginning, who knew her better than anyone. Or at least he thought he did. _Maybe not about this._

She sat down on the couch – perched, really – and considered all her options. _I could call him out on it. I could ask him why he did that. I could tell him off and remind him he has no right to do that. I could ignore him._ She breathed in. She was pretty sure she couldn't do that last thing. _Maybe we just need to really talk about this. There's been so much of an undercurrent and maybe we need to clear the air. Once and for all._

She got up and walked over to her purse, retrieving her phone. She sat back down on the couch. The one thing she hadn't really considered was what _she_ wanted. If she was honest, there was a part of her that wanted to give into all the feelings she'd been putting away in all those boxes that she kept deep down inside her, in those places she had learned to never sit and consider. She'd filled up her life with so much else that she rarely had a moment to unpack any of it, which had been a good thing. That was the option she didn't want to consider – _that I want this. That I want him. That I want everything that kiss promised._

She couldn't ignore what had happened. It had to be faced. She would have to tell him it was inappropriate and he couldn't do anything like that again. Maybe they just needed to face the elephant in the room and acknowledge it was hard seeing him in Juliette's band and be done with it. She considered doing it on his turf, going to his room and resetting the ground rules. But somehow she thought it wouldn't end with just talking. _It would be better to do it here._ She scrolled to his contact information and typed out _Talk? PH1_. She knew he read texts, he just didn't respond to them. Her thumb hovered over the send button and, before she could change her mind, she pressed it.

And then she waited.

* * *

She was sitting on the couch, leaning against the arm, her legs drawn up. She played with her phone, feeling a jumble of emotions. She still wasn't completely sure what she was going to say, how it would go, what she would do. When she heard the knock on the door, she stood up and took a deep breath, smoothing down her sweater, then headed for the door. She paused for a second before opening the door. He was standing there and her heart started to pound in her chest and she could scarcely breathe. "Hey," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "Hey." She stood back and let him walk in. She watched for a moment as he strode purposefully down the hall, then turned the corner.

She closed the door and followed him down the hallway to the living room of the suite. Her breath caught in her throat as he stood there looking at her. She quickly closed the distance between the two of them and flew into his embrace. His arms went around her waist as hers circled his neck. One hand crawled up her back and he fisted her hair, while she threaded her fingers through his. His lips crashed against hers and practically demanded her mouth open to his.

Then he pulled away from her and reached for the hem of her sweater, swiftly pulling it up over her head. She reached for his shirt and unbuttoned it, pushing it down his arms and onto the floor. He let one finger tuck into the edge of her bra and she sucked in her breath as she felt his touch on her skin for the first time in over thirteen years.

He bit his lip and she looked into his eyes, dark with desire and need. For her. She pressed her palm against his chest, feeling his skin against hers. She heard a low moan in the back of her throat and he slid his finger down to the clasp between her breasts. Then, like always, he somehow managed to unfasten it with a deft touch, letting her breasts spring free. She could hear the catch in his breath as he looked at her. He slid his hand over and rubbed her nipple with his thumb and she swallowed hard, feeling a shiver of raw pleasure. Then he reached up, with both hands, and slid his index fingers under the straps of her bra, letting them slide down her arms until it landed on the floor with her sweater.

The heat of his gaze caused a zinger that felt like molten lava to run down between her legs. She felt weak in that moment, wanting him to finish undressing her and then take her right there. She bit down on her lower lip and that seemed to break him out of his inaction. It was as though he'd read her mind. He took a step towards her and reached for her waistband. As she breathed in slowly and deeply, he unbuttoned and then unzipped her jeans. Then he leaned in and kissed her, his tongue doing lazy circles around hers as he pushed her jeans down over her hips.

He pulled back and she put her hands on his shoulders, staring into his eyes. Then he squatted down and slid her jeans off, lifting first one leg, then the other, followed by her panties, as she stood with her hands clasped in front of her chest, scarcely able to breathe. Then he stood and quickly took her in his arms, walking her backwards until she felt the shelf of the large armoire against the back of her legs. He lifted her, setting her down on the shelf and she reached between them, tugging at his waistband, pulling at his zipper, then pushing at his jeans until they were down around his thighs. He put his hands on her bottom and pulled her towards him swiftly as he entered her in one motion.

She gasped and then wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. She leaned in and found his mouth, kissing him fervently, sliding her tongue into his mouth and tasting him again. She felt tears in her eyes as she gave herself over to the sensation – of him inside her, thrusting in and out insistently, of his lips against hers, and his hands sliding up and down over the skin on her back. _Oh God, I have missed this._ It was her last coherent thought before she gave herself over to the deep, innate satisfaction of being with him again, of him loving her in a way she'd never felt with anyone but him.

* * *

He lifted her up and laid her on the couch, then gently settled on top of her. For long minutes they just kissed, letting their fingers graze each other's skin as though they were getting reacquainted, although the truth of the matter was that it was like muscle memory for them. Everything felt so familiar and yet brand new, the excitement of finally giving in to all the pent up feelings almost overwhelming for them both. When he slid his hand between them and then inserted two fingers inside her, she gasped, arching her back and pressing her breasts against his chest. The intensity of her almost immediate orgasm nearly overwhelmed her, as he ran his lips up her collarbone to the back of her ear. Then he took her in his arms and held her close, as she wrapped one leg around his. She didn't want to stop, didn't want him to leave her, ever again.

* * *

She didn't care that they were in a room with floor-to-ceiling windows and that the lights were on all around them. She couldn't get enough of him and, it seemed, the same was true for him. They watched each other in the mirror over the bar, as he ran his hands over her breasts and she pressed her hips insistently back against him, wanting to take him in as much as she could. She watched as he leaned down and ran his lips along her neck and his hand slid down her stomach and then she cried his name out again, throwing her head back against his shoulder.

His hands moved to her hips and she bent forward, her eyes catching his in the mirror. His lips curled into a lazy smile and she made a noise. She could feel her toes curling as her body tingled all over. She watched as he entered her, his eyes closing, a low moan emanating from his mouth. Her body felt like it was on fire and her hands were gripping the edge of the bar tightly. His hands moved up to cup her breasts and he began tweaking her nipples between his thumb and index finger.

His eyes were open again, dark with desire, and he was biting down on his bottom lip as he watched her. The pressure on her nipples increased and, with it, his thrusting movements. She could feel the waves building yet again and she got lost in the sensations and the pleasure until she was crying his name out over and over. In that haze of pleasure, she heard him shout out her name and then go limp against her back. She closed her eyes and felt her breathing finally begin to normalize.

* * *

She finally led him to the bedroom and she straddled him on top of the bed with the incredibly soft sheets and multiple feather pillows, shivering with desire as he ran his hands over and over her skin, exciting her more and more with each touch, until she cried out his name over and over and she felt like her whole body was on fire again.

She finally rolled off of him and laid on her back, breathing heavily. He lay on his side, reclining on his elbow, twirling her hair with his finger, breathless himself. She looked up at him and bit her lip, feeling both completely alive and unbelievably satisfied. It had somehow felt like they were trying to make up for all their lost time, all in one night. He smirked a little. "So you wanted to talk?" he said, his voice soft.

She smiled. "I think we just did." And he leaned over to press his lips against hers, then pulled her into his arms.

* * *

There was a moment, just before they fell asleep in each other's arms, when she thought about what the light of day was going to bring. Her entire body would be sore, that she knew for sure. But when the sun rose, she was going to have to figure out what was next. Everything had changed that night and that meant she was going to have to deal with all the fallout that came with that. But that was something for another time.

* * *

She leaned her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. She felt Deacon's hands gripping her hips. When she felt his warm breath centered on that sensitive place between her legs, she arched her back and moaned in anticipation of what was coming. She reached up and grabbed the pillow with both hands, clenching it tightly as she felt the tip of his tongue against her….

The knock on the door startled her and she dropped the phone in her hand onto the floor. Her heart was pounding and her mouth was dry. She put one hand on her chest, trying to settle herself. She tried breathing in and out slowly, trying to calm her breathlessness. She could feel the heat between her legs and she swallowed hard. She leaned over and picked up her phone, laying it on the coffee table. Then she let her breath out in a whoosh and pushed up from the couch and headed for the door.

She took one final breath before she reached for the door handle and pulled the door open. There he was, his shoulders hunched a little forward, his hands in his pockets, his eyes dark with emotion. Her heart started pounding again. "Hey," she said, still a little breathless. She could still feel the heat from her daydream. The one that felt so real she was surprised it wasn't.

"Hey."

She breathed in. "Come in," she said. As he walked through the door, she ran her hand down his arm and he stopped, turning to look at her. His eyes were both questioning and wary. After a second, she looked away, and he headed down the hallway. She closed the door and leaned back against it for a moment, collecting herself, and then she followed him. He was waiting. She walked past him and then gestured to the couch. "Have a seat," she said, and she sat down where she'd been when she was waiting. He sat on the chair opposite her, seeming to sense what was to come.

He leaned forward and cleared his throat. "So, Rayna, I…."

She held up her hand. "If you're gonna apologize, don't," she said, and he raised his eyebrows. She breathed in. "I'm not saying that what happened is okay. It's not. But I guess there's just been a lot of, I don't know, unresolved…stuff between us." She looked away. "I think it started that night at the Bluebird and we just didn't really…fix it. I guess I could have been more clear, or something."

"You firing me was pretty clear, I'd say." His voice was clipped and she looked back at him.

"Look, I don't want to get into an argument with you, Deacon." She rubbed her hands on her jeans. "Watty said something to me tonight that just made a whole lot of sense."

"What's that?"

"He said that, you know, doing things separately, with you being in Juliette's band, is a good thing. For us. Gives us space to breathe." She breathed out. "Deacon, we've been together, one way or the other, for most of our lives, and it's been good but sometimes it's been hard. Really hard. And I'm thinking maybe it was wrong of me to be selfish, keeping you in my band, when maybe you should have been exploring those other spaces a long time ago." As she said the words, she felt like her heart was breaking into a million pieces, but it felt like it needed to be said.

He nodded, not as though he agreed with her, but that he heard her. "That's what you think?" he asked.

She nodded, then tried to smile. "Yeah. That's what I think. I've got a lot going on in my life right now, with this tour and a new label and family stuff and I just don't need any other complications, you know? And what happened in the elevator, well, it just felt like it could have led to…a complication." She looked down at her hands, as she twisted her fingers together.

He was silent for a long time. "You're probably right," he said, finally. He stood up then.

She looked up at him. "I don't want things to be awkward between us," she said, and then she stood as well. She gave him a small smile. "You and Juliette sounded really good out there and so I'm guessing we're gonna be crossing paths a lot over the next few months, so I hope we can, you know, keep it friendly." She swallowed. "You were with me through so much, Deacon. I can't forget that. _Won't_ forget that. I still want the best for you."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. He looked down, then back at her. "I get it, Ray," he said. "I don't want to…make things weird or nothing."

She nodded. "I know." She breathed in. "I think we just let things get, you know, a little out of hand. We just can't do that again."

He took a deep breath and she saw a twitch in his cheek and sorrow in his eyes. "Right. Okay, well, uh, I guess I'll go then." He turned and headed for the door, not looking back. She followed him and he let himself out. After she closed the door behind him, she stood there for a moment, her palm against the door. She felt drained, sad. She wondered if she'd done the right thing, wondered if she'd once and for all put an end to them. It had felt like it, in a way, but she'd felt like she had to. If they'd kept going down that path, there was too much that could go wrong, too many secrets that would have to be revealed. She had to be the strong one, the one who made the decisions that kept them from going haywire.

She walked slowly back into the living room and then over to the wet bar. She opened the mini-fridge and took out a bottle of wine. She opened it and poured a glass, then walked over to the windows and stood, one foot on top of the other, her free arm bent and crossed over her waist. She sipped on the wine as she looked out over the lights of the city. She felt a wave of melancholy wash over her. She'd always believed, deep in her heart, that they would find their way back to each other one day. But as time had gone on and she'd clung to the truth about Maddie, she had felt that hope fade.

She thought about where her mind had gone and realized that would have been a disaster. It might have felt really wonderful in the moment, but in the cold light of day, it would have been foolish. She was married, after all, and even if Teddy had probably not been faithful to her, she was going to take the high road, be able to hold her head up high. Deacon would just be a complication, one she didn't need in her life. She'd done the right thing. She had to believe that.

* * *

When she heard the knock at the door, her heart started fluttering. _He came back._ She put down the glass and practically ran to the door. She opened it up, a hopeful look on her face.

"Hi."

For a second, she couldn't speak, just stood there staring at him. Finally she said, "Hi," and she knew she sounded breathless, her voice sounded high to her. The one person she hadn't expected to see was the one standing there at her door.

Teddy.

 _ **A/N: This is one of three one shots I wrote and have kind of had on the backburner while I worked on other things. As I work towards wrapping up my last two stories, I thought I'd post these – very different – one shots over the next few weeks. Hope you enjoy.**_


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